"DIE!" she roared, her voice filled with desperation and fury. She wasn't a fool, she knew that if I continued to grow unchecked, her death was inevitable. The moment she had seen the Blood Sun assassin's condition, her decision had been made. I had to die, no matter the cost.
She was no ordinary expert, either. While not at the pinnacle of the kingdom's power, she stood just beneath it, a force to be reckoned with.
Unlike the typical tropes in cultivation novels where emperors and empresses reigned as the most powerful beings in their realms, the reality of this world was starkly different. While my father and stepmother were formidable, many warriors throughout the kingdom surpassed them in strength. After all, ruling an empire left little time for cultivation.
That said, the royal family wasn't without its aces. Hidden within the shadows were past emperors and empresses, cultivators who had relinquished their thrones to dedicate themselves wholly to the pursuit of power. These figures were unparalleled, not just because of their cultivation but because of their connection to the enigmatic power of fate.
But my stepmother, blinded by rage and fear, failed to grasp the gap between us. Her sword gleamed with deadly intent as it fell toward me, aiming to cleave me in half. Its speed was overwhelming, too fast for anyone to react.
Anyone but me.
I had acted long before she had even resolved to attack. My instincts, honed to an almost supernatural level, had foreseen this moment.
Her sword, a masterpiece forged with her blood, sweat, and soul, suddenly betrayed her. It bent unnaturally mid-swing, its trajectory veering off course. In the same instant, there was a flash of steel, and her hands, the ones that had gripped the weapon so fiercely, were severed, flying into the air.
"W-what?!" she gasped, her voice trembling with disbelief as blood spattered onto the floor. She staggered back, clutching at the stumps where her hands had been. Her gaze darted to her sword, now floating gently toward me as if it had always belonged in my grasp.
I caught it effortlessly, inspecting the blade with casual disinterest. Then, my eyes met hers, cold and mocking. "Oh, stepmother," I said, my tone laced with scorn. "Did you truly think I was the one in danger? Did you think that just because I'm six years old and you're an old hag with a few more years under your belt, you could overpower me?"
Her face paled at my words, her eyes wide with a mixture of horror and disbelief. "Y-you're a monster!" she stammered, her voice trembling. "How… how could you reach the stage where your sword's will aligns with the world itself?!"
"I'm a genius," I said, my voice calm yet laced with a sharp edge. "And with that comes the ability to give your so-called common sense the middle finger."
As my words echoed, the room began to shift, its very essence warping. The atmosphere trembled, and the world itself seemed to transform into a sword. The walls, the floor, the air, all of it became sharp, cutting, imbued with boundless, inescapable sword intent. Even her own body, once a vessel of pride and power, began to take the shape of a blade.
Her breathing hitched, panic flashing in her eyes as she tried to summon her strength. She reached out desperately to the Great Way, to the Dao she had relied upon for so long. But even the Dao betrayed her, reshaping itself into the edge of a sword. All paths of escape had been sealed. She could only stare at me in abject horror.
"I could kill you right now," I continued, rising from my seat with deliberate ease, each movement radiating unshakable confidence. "And walk away like nothing happened." I approached her, taking hold of the tip of the sword that hovered before her terrified eyes. "You truly are a fool if you haven't realized why Father is so afraid of me."
Her body trembled uncontrollably, but I merely smiled, the sword between us a testament to her helplessness.
"I could kill you," I said again, my voice soft yet cold, "but that would be far too merciful. No, I want you to live. I want you to watch as this power you clung to, the power you tried to protect by killing me, crumbles before you. I'll relish every attempt you make on my life, knowing they'll fail just as spectacularly as this one."
I leaned closer, my smile growing more chilling. "And when, in the end, you decide to take your own life to escape my wrath, know this: I will bring you back. Comprehending the Dao of Life to such a degree is only a matter of time for someone like me. If you reincarnate, I'll find you. I'll help you remember everything before your punishment begins anew."
Her pupils vibrated with uncontrollable fear, her composure shattered. Even a blind man could see the terror etched into her very soul.
"Well," I said casually, releasing the sword and snapping the oppressive tension in the room, "I can't maintain this forever. So, get out of my sight." With a wave of my hand, the world returned to normal.
The oppressive sword intent faded, and she stumbled backward, gasping for air as though the weight of existence had only just returned to her. Blood dripped steadily from her severed hands, pooling on the floor. Her lips moved as if to speak, but no words came out. Her mind raced, frantically grasping at possibilities, strategies, anything that could salvage her situation.
"...Die!" she screamed, her voice filled with raw desperation as she launched herself at me. The blood pooling around her feet surged upward, twisting and molding into a crimson blast that hurtled toward me with lethal intent.
This time, I didn't even bother to move.
Lan Mei appeared in front of me in an instant, her presence calm and unyielding. With a graceful wave of her hand, a shimmering barrier formed between us and the attack. The blood slammed into the barrier, only to be repelled, forcing the Empress back with a violent recoil.
"Thank you for helping the young master refine his skills," Lan Mei said, her tone polite yet dripping with condescension. Her faint smile only served to mock the Empress further, a predator toying with prey. "It was truly a pleasure watching you struggle."
"Y-you... you're a Nascent Soul realm cultivator?" The Empress stumbled back, her voice trembling as disbelief overtook her. A level 2 Nascent Soul herself, she had never in her life imagined someone as powerful as a level 7 Nascent Soul cultivator would debase themselves to serve as a maid. Yet here Lan Mei stood, unwavering, serving a six-year-old child.
Her gaze darted around, calculating. To contend with Lan Mei, even the most powerful clans would need to call upon their hidden ancestors. Clan leaders typically reached level 5 Nascent Soul at best, while those ancestors who slumbered in secrecy ranged from level 7 to the rare few who had surpassed level 10. And here, one of those formidable beings was casually standing as a servant.
Her mind raced with implications, her retreating steps betraying her growing panic... and in the end, she left, what else could she do?
"I told you not to show your strength," I said, frowning as I turned to Lan Mei. Her display had been intentional, a deliberate attempt to intimidate the Empress. While it had served its purpose, it wasn't part of the plan.
Lan Mei met my gaze with a soft sigh, her expression tinged with regret. "I believe I've led you down the wrong path, young master, seeing how things have unfolded."
I rolled my eyes at her words, exasperated. She was the one who had instilled in me the idea that ruthlessness was necessary, that I had to crush my enemies so thoroughly they wouldn't dare to challenge me again. It made sense, fear was a powerful deterrent, and those who provoked me needed to regret their foolishness.
But her gaze remained steady, and her next words struck a nerve.
"Young master," she said, her voice calm but firm, "even an ant can topple an elephant if given the right resources and strategy. What you're doing now… it's reckless. You're letting your desire for a worthy battle cloud your judgment. By giving her ten years and revealing your strength like this, you're inviting danger, not because you need to, but because you want it. You're suppressing your power, waiting for the moment you can explode with it."
Her words landed like a blow, forcing me to pause. My eyes widened slightly as realization set in. She was right. My actions, and my decisions, weren't just calculated moves to have some fun or send a message. Deep down, they were driven by something else: a hunger for challenge, for conflict, for the thrill of pushing myself to the brink.
For a moment, the air between us was silent. I stared at her, my mind racing as I replayed my decisions through the lens of her critique. She stood there, composed and unyielding, her words echoing in my thoughts.